No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2002-12-02 - 1:39 p.m.

How the flower guy is ruining my day

So, last Tuesday before heading to Vegas, I ordered some flowers from ShyGirl. Because I don't know her apartment number (and even BoBoGirl, who lives in the same building, ferchrissakes, doesn't know it) I sent them to her work. Because I'm a procrastinating, nervous, paranoid, goober, I didn't get them ordered in time for them to be delivered on Wednesday. Which means that they were going to show up on Friday. Which wasn't going to work because the office was closed. Which means that they should be showing up today.

But apparently they haven't.

I resisted the urge to call ShyGirl last night, because while in Vegas I managed to convince myself that I'm coming on too strong. Which may or may not be the case, but my mind is a fertile ground for fear, and this is the one that grew the fastest just recently. The things that go on inside my head are beyond describing, but I can take a complete lack of input and ascribe monstrous significance to it. It's a curse, really.

So I'm resisting the urge to call today, because I'm hoping that she'll call me when she gets the flowers. Which may or may not be today. I don't know. Because FTD.com has really shitty order tracking. I may need to find another flower company.

I'm a sad, sappy, overly romantic, and endearingly (I hope) pathetic little monkey.

How's your day?

Hosted by my beloved DLand
Sign My Guestbook!�� powered by SignMyGuestbook.com